Message in a Bottle
by Gevaudan
Summary: A long time in the future, Jack receives an unexpected message.


Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadly never mine.

Rating: K+

Notes: Set in the future - some minor spoilers for Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang.

Message In A Bottle

"Ah, dammit."

No matter when or where he was, Captain Jack Harkness still swore like a 21st Century human. He couldn't help it, there was something so satisfying about it - 51st century profanity just didn't match up. Irritated, he stuck his singed finger in his mouth trying to relieve the sting delivered by one of the live wires that powered his wrist strap. The device had come off worse in an argument with an Alcatrian swamp and he was trying his best to restore it, not to full working order (the Doctor had seen to that), but at least to the base level of functionality he'd gotten used to over the years. He'd worn it long enough for it to feel a part of him, and he didn't really want to part with it after a brief immersion in what was essentially a large, muddy puddle.

Savagely, he gave another wire a tweak, daring it to give him another shock. None was forthcoming, and instead the device issued the apologetic chirp associated with an incoming message. Jack rocked back on his heels in surprise, startled by the unexpected sound. There was no one in the vicinity, hell, there was probably no one in the century that knew the receiving message of the device, which suggested that this was a message that, sometime in the past, for some unknown reason had stored itself in the device's cache. Curious, he slipped on the strap and keyed in the command required to play back the message, sinking to his chair in shock at the holographic message that materialised.

"Guys!" the petite Asian woman's voice was bright with excitement, "I think I've done it!"

Toshiko Sato, he remembered with a rush of affection. Torchwood's brightest and best when it came to alien technology, including it appeared, that issued to Time Agents. More figures shuffled into view and with a stab of remembered grief Jack recognised two more of his former team, Owen Harper and Gwen Cooper.

"I hooked up the image capture devices that we found last week, routed their input through my terminal and transmitted the signal on the same frequency that John..."

"Great, Tosh," Owen cut her explanation off abruptly, as he and Gwen peered intently at something, looking eerily through the point where Jack sat watching in disbelief.

"How do you know it's working?"

"Well," Tosh paused, defensive at Owen's sharp tone, "I don't know for sure, but there's no reason it shouldn't."

Gwen patted her shoulder encouragingly.

"It's brilliant, Tosh. It's bound to come in handy the next time we've misplaced him."

"If it works," Owen pointed it out again, "We don't know it has."

Jack couldn't help grinning at the sight of tem, there in front of him, so alive despite the recording's grey hue. It was a miracle that Tosh had made it work at all, and yet, it was a shame that...

"We'll find out soon enough," the rounded vowels he'd unwittingly been desperate to hear drifted through the speaker, making Jack's heart leap, before the tall, slender figure of Ianto Jones stepped into view, "If that thing of his goes off when he's in the middle of the Red Dragon Centre, on a Saturday afternoon, in the school holidays he's going to go spare."

At his dour pronouncement Tosh looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"I didn't think of that," she admitted finally in a small voice, causing Ianto, eyes sparkling, to smile in the way that Jack still remembered so well.

"S'alright Tosh," he reassured her, "we'd have heard him bellowing by now if it had. Maybe it sends the message all together at the end."

Jack's heart clenched as he watched the young man. His only photograph had faded long ago, and though he'd never forgotten what made Ianto, Ianto he never thought he'd be reminded of the soft tone of his voice, or the way he could say a thousand words with the quirk of an eyebrow. For a moment, Jack wished he could snatch him out of the recording just to hold him close, one final time.

His maudlin thoughts were interrupted by Gwen saying, "Shouldn't we leave him a message?"

"Oi Jack!" Owen supplied helpfully, his pointed features creased in a grin, "Bring beer."

An electronic ringing sound filtered through the recording, some kind of repetitive synthesised tone that hovered, out of reach, on the edge of Jack's memory - only to come tumbling to the forefront with the murderous glare Ianto shot at an unconcerned Owen. It was his phone, Jack remembered, and Owen had spent one summer regularly reprogramming it to play a certain tune much to Ianto's annoyance; Dancing Newt? Loony Toad? Crazy Frog? Something like that. Whatever it was it had driven Ianto to distraction.

"Sir?" Jack strained, but he couldn't hear what he'd said to cause Ianto to appear so adorably flustered. For a moment Jack wished that the recording had more colour so that he could see the flush that was bound to have accompanied the expression.

Ianto continued to listen, nodding intently and gesturing at something out of shot that caused Gwen to promptly disappear.

"Aha," he acknowledged, "Rift spike. Penarth." At the words Owen too disappeared and Tosh began typing swiftly, "Yes, Owen's getting the SUV now."

He covered the microphone with one hand to speak to Tosh, "Can you get the infra-red camera?" he murmured softly, before speaking to Jack again.

"Ok Jack, I get it. We need the big guns. Yes, I'm going now."

With a decisive snap, Ianto shut the phone before pausing to look directly into the image collector a grin on his face.

"If you get this, I'll see you in a second," his eyes brightened with mischief, "Help me, Captain Harkness, you're my only hope!"

With a laugh, Ianto Jones was gone and Jack was once again left along, the familiar pull of guilt in his chest as tears of grief ran down his face, unchecked.


End file.
